M A lover and writer of poems; an artist and an umpteen being discovered by the rising and setting of the sun.
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www.wiseafun.blogspot.com 4 followers / 2.0k words
I passed by a piece of land It was covered with weeds Aside the trees, it has nothing else my eyes wanted to see The same land before now saw different farm tools dress it Season after season Year after year It was dressed and clothed with different crops Crops in rows and and made of different colours But this piece of land has lost its beauty today The tools won't work it again The rains may come The sun isn't out of job But the tools have all gone to bed Because the farmer has gone home to rest A rest from all this earthly stress
Warmed up by the sun Cooled down by the rain Illuminated by the moon Serenaded by the birds Comforted by the breeze Fed by the plants Accompanied by the living And reminded by the dead
Even if nothing else works Looking at all these things I know I'm so blessed
When the flesh is tired, the spirit will move on So, work young one Work Work while you still have the strength Today you can, tomorrow you may not The spirit still abides So work